


vinyl

by swancharmings



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24989164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swancharmings/pseuds/swancharmings
Summary: “Nothing in his collection seems right for them, tonight, and he’s frustrated.” Harvey wants date night to be perfect. One-shot.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	vinyl

**Author's Note:**

> Listen. I had written this little piece (after crying over the Song Talks podcast) and it was sitting in my drafts, and then Sarah Rafferty just said that “Harvey would pick the vinyl” for date night and I am still crying about it. 
> 
> This is definitely not the perfect date night she envisioned, but I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> (Special thanks to Heather and Alyssa for the betas, as always, they are so patient and kind)

He wants it to be perfect.

They’ve been  _ this _ ,  _ them _ , for only a few weeks now even if it feels like forever. Weekly date nights are cherished in the midst of Faye and civil war and general client mayhem, and tonight Donna is coming to his place —  _ if I don’t get bombarded by another associate first,  _ she’d mumbled through her teeth earlier on the phone — and he makes it his personal mission to take her mind off of work and everything else and simply help her relax.

Harvey thumbs through his record collection, muses over the ones Donna has heard through the years. Even a few she’s picked herself (and a few he’d purchased specifically with her in mind, though he’s never told her that). Soft rock, punk pop, gentle jazz. Each one holds a distant yet sacred memory; blurred lines and messy feelings and nightcaps with just a touch of lustful longing; laughing for no reason at all, sharing spring rolls over a mountain of briefs; all the moments they’ve shared, big and small and in-between.

(He remembers them all.)

But nothing in his collection seems  _ right  _ for them, tonight, and he’s frustrated. Changes disks seven or eight times before he finally settles on an old favorite — Miles Davis. The one she scratched trying to fix the record player with her hips, the playful thrust momentarily distracting him from snapping at her as the disk fell to the floor.

Harvey turns the vinyl over in his hands and his smile grows. He hasn’t heard it since that night. The light swing will be perfect for dinner, wine,  _ other  _ activities...

Satisfied, he situates it on the base, leaving it off for now while he goes to finish their dinner.

Soon enough, Donna walks through the door like she’s always lived here (it feels like she has), kicking off her heels and they move in tandem to fix their plates. Harvey forgets about the record the second her eyes lock with his across the counter, her foot running up his calf; he finds he can’t stop touching her, so he doesn’t -- until she tells him point-blank that he has to let go of her hand so she can refill their wine. He noisily kisses her palm and she calls him an idiot and his cheeks hurt from smiling.

After, they cuddle on his couch, light touches and kisses that turn into rutting and necking until she breathes “take me to bed” and he stumbles up, their lips locked. On the way to the bedroom, his original plan re-emerges in his brain and he breaks apart to quickly fix the record. He lowers the needle and she grins at him from his bedroom door and  _ god _ , he loves her, and as the record loads and scratches he kisses his way down the column of her throat —

Horns blaring from the stereo cause Donna to scream and Harvey to jump and  _ Jesus CHRIST that is not what he picked _ . He makes a futile attempt to jam the arm away but the screeching trumpets won’t stop. Finally he just unplugs the damn thing, swearing and scowling as Donna breaks down in laughter, her whole body shaking with tears in her eyes, and she tries to say something but doubles over again, and  _ fuck it _ , he can’t help but laugh, too.

They relapse into giggles a few times before finally he sighs, head falling into his hands as Donna flops down next to him on the bed.

“This isn’t how this was supposed to go,” he mutters.

Donna sits up and nudges his shoulder with hers, a subtle glint in her eye. “And how was this supposed to go?”

“Well, for starters, you were supposed to put my records back in the  _ correct _ case. And we would have been making love to  _ Donna _ right now,” he answers glibly. She nudges him harder.

“Seriously — you planned this?” Donna is teasing, sure, but there’s something on her face that tells him she’s touched all the same.

He bumps against her shoulder in response, the simple acknowledgement coupled with another teasing glare. “Hasn’t gone quite according to plan yet.”

Donna leans back on her thighs, raising her eyebrows in a challenge. “Okay, hot shot, then play me a song and get back in here before I start without you.”

As he bolts from the bed to change the music, he thinks he’ll let her get away with mixing up his records. Just this once.


End file.
